


My Dark And Lonely Side

by suchanadorer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Beauty and the Beast AU, M/M, Prompt Fill, SRS 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:13:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchanadorer/pseuds/suchanadorer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt at SRS: Based on the classic fairy tale. Lucifer was once the most brilliant, most beautiful, but his world has become twisted and dark-- the only beauty left here is the rose garden that he tends with the utmost affection. He's understandably upset when Castiel wanders in and plucks one of his beloved flowers. Alternately, you could stick with the more traditional telling-- someone else (char. of your choice) picks the rose and has to give Castiel to Lucifer as payment, since the rose was for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Dark And Lonely Side

“If I stay, will you let her go?”

It has been a long time since Lucifer’s heard anything other than fear in someone’s voice when they speak to him, and it gives him pause. He’d had no intention of sparing either of them; not the red-haired flower thief nor her blue-eyed brother, but then there it was, in his words.

_Hope._

He expected better of the monster than the monster himself did, and it stunned Lucifer, to think that someone would believe him capable of any good at all, looking like he did.

Lucifer slumps back against the far wall, glad to be concealed in shadows.

“Yes. She can leave, if you agree to stay.”

He gives the boy - Castiel - a better room, somewhere facing east, with a warm bed and a fireplace. He feels it was the least he can do for someone who had volunteered to stay with him.

At sunset on the first day, Lucifer stops outside the door to Castiel’s room. He knocks, struggling to remember his manners after so many years on his own.

The door opens slowly, Castiel’s face filling the darkness there, all blue eyes and full lips. He hasn’t shaved, and his dark hair is sleep-tousled. He is the most beautiful thing Lucifer has ever seen, even when apprehension and sorrow cut deep lines into his face. Lucifer is certain that this man will be his undoing, in one way or another.

“Yes?” Castiel says, his eyes skating up and down Lucifer’s body.

“I came to ask you to dinner. Please, come and dine with me.”

Lucifer stretches up to his full height. He can not be soft or inviting, but he can be dignified and terrible, with broad leathery wings that frame his body and thick horns that curl back from his forehead, his hair grown long and unkempt around them. His clothes are faded and tattered, a shadow of his former splendor. It’s been a long time since Lucifer could bring himself to face a mirror, but Castiel is easy enough to read. He is terrifying.

He can see the effect in the way Castiel’s eyebrows shoot up. His eyes widen and his mouth falls open. There is something vaguely satisfying in frightening this man, in making him regret the decision to spare his sister. Lucifer wants to hurt him, to break him so that he can not, in his turn, break Lucifer.

“I am hungry,” Castiel admits quietly. His gaze sinks to the floor and he seems to consider for a moment before nodding.

This time it’s Lucifer who is startled and silent. He had expected a refusal, something to allow him to be cold and callous, but Castiel’s quiet acceptance is something he’s unsure how to deal with.

“Fine,” he says after a moment. “Follow me.” He turns to go, then pauses and looks back over his shoulder. “Please.”

The dining room is warm and luxurious, all dark wood and white linen with a glittering chandelier and silver on the table. There is more food than any one person could eat, all sorts of bread and meat. There is wine and rich desserts topped with fruit and cream.

Lucifer takes a goblet of wine and settles into a high-backed chair turned away from the fire. It throws him into shadow and allows him to watch Castiel where he is bathed in golden light.

Castiel eats in silence, picking at his food and casting glances towards Lucifer.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” he asks.

“No,” Lucifer replies, his hand tightening around his goblet. “It would not be... no.”

Castiel sets his bread back on his plate and pushes away from the table.

“Please,” Lucifer says, “continue.”

“I’m not hungry anymore,” Castiel says. He swallows hard and looks back towards the door, and Lucifer knows that he has frightened him again.

“You don’t have to stay,” Lucifer tells him, and he sees Castiel relax before gathering himself and standing to go.

“Castiel?” Lucifer calls when his prisoner has reached the door.

Castiel turns, one hand on the doorframe.

“Would you love me and stay with me forever, if I asked?”

Castiel’s expression is a mix of fear and disgust, and it makes Lucifer’s stomach twist.

“No,” Castiel replies with a shake of his head. He disappears into the hallway and Lucifer buries his head in his hands. He has forgotten what little he ever knew of kindness, and he will undoubtedly waste this gift, just as he wasted all the others that came before.

The days fall into a pattern. Lucifer makes himself scarce, preferring to watch Castiel from windows and doorways rather than engaging him directly. Castiel spends his time in the library with his nose buried deep in one of the ancient books there. They’ve gone untouched since the curse was placed on the castle and Lucifer had driven everyone else out.

Occasionally Lucifer finds Castiel in the garden as well. He watches from his balcony as Castiel walks among the bushes and flowers, always pausing in front of the roses that had brought him to this place. The girl had only wanted a rose for her brother, and as Lucifer watches Castiel he can still hear her begging for mercy as he’d dragged her to the dungeon.

Lucifer thinks that perhaps Castiel can teach him mercy again. His tail swishes impatiently as he thinks back through the tense dinners they’ve had together. Lucifer wants, more than he has ever wanted in his life, but years of being the favored son followed by years spent all alone have taught him nothing of patience and temperance. Castiel has tried to make polite conversation, but it never goes more than a few exchanges before Lucifer says something hateful, just to see Castiel react. Always, he asks if Castiel will stay with him, and always Castiel refuses. Lately there has been less fear in his eyes and more sadness. Lucifer doesn’t know which he despises more. He refuses to be pitied for what he is.

That evening begins the same as all the others. Lucifer collects Castiel as his room and they walk together, side by side now rather than Castiel trailing behind him. Castiel eats, and Lucifer drinks in the sight of him. It is the only sustenance he needs.

“I was wondering,” Castiel starts, slowly, not looking up from his dinner. “Do you have any paints? Perhaps a piece of canvas I could use?”

“It’s possible,” Lucifer says off-handedly. “If I did, they would be in the library with everything else. You’re welcome to look.”

Castiel smiles. It’s a small, private thing, but Lucifer’s breath is punched out of him all the same, and it’s as if he can feel a crack in his heart. He wants to make Castiel smile again, of this he is suddenly sure.

When Castiel is asleep, Lucifer goes into the library and lays out a canvas, paints and brushes on the biggest table. He makes them easy to find, but leaves no message. There are only two of them in the castle, yet he is still afraid that Castiel will refuse the gift if it looks like it came from Lucifer.

The next night at dinner, Castiel is in exceptionally good spirits, and Lucifer can not bring himself to contain his curiosity.

“Why are you so happy?” he asks. He is very much aware that he has never asked Castiel about his mood before. Castiel has always ever been sad and scared, though, and Lucifer knows exactly why.

“I found supplies this morning,” Castiel says, an edge of satisfaction in his voice. “I am painting a portrait.”

Lucifer shifts in his chair. There is something in Castiel’s face that intrigues him now. A certain way that his eyes glitter and his smile curls, as if he is planning something.

“You will show it to me,” Lucifer says. It is not a request.

“It’s a surprise,” Castiel replies. “You will have to wait.”

“You have no right to tell me what to do. You are my prisoner here.”

“Aah, but you will wait,” Castiel says again. “It’s in my room, and you have always been kind enough to allow me my privacy, even though I see you watching me.”

Lucifer does not remember the last time anyone called him kind, and tonight when he asks Castiel to stay, he imagines that the refusal comes with a hint of regret.

Lucifer sees Castiel less now. He is always locked in his room, working on his painting. Lucifer broods, surprised to find that he misses Castiel’s face and presence in the castle. He comes earlier and earlier to collect Castiel for dinner, and their conversations wind longer and longer into the night. Castiel is cagey and avoids details of what he’s working on, but they have other things to talk about. One night Castiel brings a book that he’s been reading and gives it to Lucifer, encouraging him to read it.

“It made me think of you,” Castiel tells him. Lucifer doesn’t know how to answer, so he says nothing. When Castiel hands him the book, their fingers brush. Castiel is warm, and Lucifer is embarrassed by his own chill, but Castiel just lets go of the book and takes Lucifer’s hand in both of his own.

“You’re freezing,” Castiel says, concerned. It pulls at Lucifer’s heart, widening the crack in the hardened surface, letting a long-forgotten light shine inside him.

Castiel grabs the arms of Lucifer’s chair and wrenches it to the side, turning it so that Lucifer is half-facing the fire. Then he drags his own chair to face him, curling up in it like a cat. He is utterly fearless when he looks up at Lucifer’s face, watching the shadows play on it while they talk.

Lucifer forgets to ask Castiel to stay. Only later does it occur to him that he did it on purpose. He can no longer bear to hear Castiel refuse him every night. He knows the truth. If this brave, honest, gentle soul can not love him, then no one can.

The next day Lucifer is awoken to pounding on his door. Castiel has never come anywhere near his chambers before, and Lucifer hurries to answer.

Castiel’s eyes are wide with panic and there are trails down his cheeks. Tears, Lucifer thinks. Castiel has been crying, and it makes Lucifer want to tear the world in two.

“What is it?” he asks. Castiel chokes back a sob, and Lucifer gathers him into his arms without thinking, wanting only to still the trembling and to see him smile again.

“I had a nightmare,” Castiel explains after a moment. “It’s Anna, my sister. She’s sick. I think she’s dying.”

“It was only a dream,” Lucifer reassures him. He runs a hand through Castiel’s hair, a long-forgotten expression of comfort given to a lonely prince in a nursery many years ago.

“No,” Castiel says. “My dreams, they’re special. They come true. _Anna._ ”

Castiel collapses into sobs again, clutching at Lucifer’s shirt. Lucifer’s eyes fall closed and he sighs.

“You should go to her. If she is dying, you can’t stay here.”

Castiel draws back to look at Lucifer’s face, and Lucifer lowers his arms from where he’d been holding him.

“I don’t understand.”

Lucifer cups Castiel’s cheek, hating the way his pallid skin and yellowed nails look in contrast to all the life in Castiel’s face.

“Go, Castiel. You’re free. Go to your sister.”

The lines in Castiel’s face smooth and his mouth falls open softly. His eyes search Lucifer’s face, and Lucifer does his best to push down the sorrow and fear he feels at letting him go. He only wants Castiel to see the affection and admiration that he’s grown to have.

Castiel leans forward and presses his mouth to Lucifer’s. He’s warm, and he smells like books and paint, and Lucifer kisses him back. It’s over too soon, and Castiel is stepping away from him, turning to go.

“Thank you, Lucifer. I’ll be back soon,” he promises. “Don’t look at the painting!” He shouts as he runs off down the hall.

Lucifer waits until Castiel can no longer see him before sinking to his knees. The kiss had shattered what was left of the wall he’d built to keep his heart dark and cold. Now it shines bright within him with a love so warm that it burns, because he has no one to share it with. He is alive again, and it will kill him, just as he had known it would when he first laid eyes on Castiel.

The days pass interminably slowly. Lucifer has no idea how long he knelt in his doorway, and it takes all his effort to drag himself to his bed. He folds a wing over his body and wills himself to become stone, so that if Castiel returns he will find a gargoyle and not this ruined thing he has become. He tells himself “if”, but in his heart he knows the truth: Castiel is not coming back. His heart will flicker and die like a flame without oxygen.

A voice rouses Lucifer from his sleep. His eyelids are leaden, and he hopes bitterly that his final wish came true, that his body is stiffening into a cold, petrified statue. He blinks blearily and raises a heavy hand to rub at his eyes, trying to fight off the hallucination of Castiel standing before him.

The vision does not disappear. Instead, warm hands find his face, push their way under his wing to land on his chest and arms, touching him everywhere. It is torture.

“Are you all right? Lucifer, please, say something.”

It’s Castiel’s voice, pinched and sad. His visions have never spoken before, and Lucifer reaches for him.

“You came back,” he pants. His mouth is dry and his voice creaks from lack of use.

“Of course I came back,” Castiel says, gentle chastisement in his voice. “Didn’t you believe me?”

“I wouldn’t have come back to me,” Lucifer replies, rolling sluggishly onto his back. Everything hurts, and he’s so weak, and he thinks that this is worse than if Castiel had not come back at all. He doesn’t want Castiel to see him like this, broken and worn, but he lacks the strength of body or spirit to send him away. It is a selfish indulgence, to keep him near in these last few moments.

“You don’t see what I see,” Castiel says, and he’s so close now. Lucifer can feel his warmth, but he can barely make out his face. Everything is fading and darkening before his eyes.

“Stay with me,” Lucifer pleads, groping blindly after any part of Castiel that he can hold. Hands find his, and they are so warm.

“Yes, but only if you do the same. Don’t leave me now, Lucifer. I will stay with you, and I will love you, but you have to stay with me, too. _Please._ ”

Something hot and wet lands on Lucifer’s face. Tears. Castiel is leaning down over him, and he’s crying. This time it is Lucifer’s fault, and he wants to rip himself in two.

“I love you,” Castiel whispers, and then there are lips on Lucifer’s, and he can’t breathe for the fire in his chest. His body is burning from the inside out, and it hurts and it’s perfect. He wants to cry out, but he doesn’t want to stop kissing Castiel, so instead he lifts his arms and holds his love as close as he can, pulling and grasping and using all this light inside him to tell Castiel what he doesn’t have words for.

“Lucifer,” Castiel says, and now his voice has gone high and thin with something like joy. Lucifer doesn’t understand. His vision is clearing and the heat in his chest has spread out to fill his body. He feels better, more alive than he has in years.

“Lucifer, look.” Castiel holds up his hands where their fingers are tangled together. His hands are pink and soft, just like Castiel’s. His arms are healed, and when he looks down at his body he sees that he is restored. He doesn’t know if he’s in Heaven or if the curse is lifted, and he’s not sure he cares. All he knows is that Castiel is looking at him with love, and he feels whole and complete, and he never wants it to end.

“You look just like I thought you would,” Castiel says with a smile, and Lucifer tilts his head.

“How you thought?” Lucifer asks, and Castiel nods, pulling him to his feet.

Lucifer sways where he stands. He’s had wings for so long that he has trouble finding his balance without them, but then Castiel is there, looping an arm around his waist and draping Lucifer’s arm along his shoulders.

Castiel leads them down the hall to his room. He pushes open the door and brings Lucifer in with him. It’s suddenly very intimate, and Lucifer is self-conscious, afraid of saying or doing something foolish to destroy this new and fragile thing.

“Here.” Castiel pulls him to the corner near the window, where a canvas stands upon an easel. “It’s not quite finished, but...”

He turns the easel, and Lucifer gasps. He had assumed that Castiel was painting a portrait of his lost sister, but there is a prince looking back at him, dressed in purple and white. Blonde hair, blue eyes that sparkle with mischief, and a warm smile.

It is Lucifer, as he was before.

“This,” Castiel says, watching him from where he stands behind the easel, “ _this_ is what I see. This is what I love, and why I came back. Even if you had remained a beast, I would have stayed, for I have seen your heart, and I know that it is good.”

Lucifer can only stare at him, amazed. He thinks of all the days Castiel spent locked in his room, and he is speechless to know that Castiel spent those days thinking of him, thinking that he was good and that he could be beautiful.

“I love you,” Lucifer mumbles. It feels inadequate. He longs for more words, for better words. He wants to tell Castiel how sorry he is for doubting him, how happy he is that he returned, and how they will never be separated again.

Castiel smiles up at him and steps out from behind the easel. He crowds up against Lucifer and guides him gently backwards towards the bed. Lucifer’s calves hit the edge and he sits down hard, pulling Castiel down with him.

“I love you, I love you.” Lucifer repeats it like a prayer. He wants to atone for every sin he has ever committed against Castiel, and he will start now. He will use his body, new and whole and human, to show Castiel how much he means to him. He will worship him until he can find the words to thank him for being his salvation, and even every day thereafter.


End file.
